


oh we're in love aren't we

by delsicle



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 19-Year-Old Harry Styles, 19-Year-Old Louis Tomlinson, Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Smut, Oral Sex, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, past transphobia, transboy!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 22:06:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10908378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delsicle/pseuds/delsicle
Summary: Louis is trying to get through his second year of university while dealing with his three stupidly loud and stupidly in love roommates, a series of boring classes, and his job working the graveyard shift at his campus’s favorite drunk food shop. Harry is new to town and looking for somewhere to live when he finds a long-abandoned apartment that brings him right to Louis’s doorstep.Or, a soft 19/19 university AU in which Harry is getting a fresh start, Louis isn’t subtle, no one does their homework and 3 AM is an excellent time to fall in love.





	oh we're in love aren't we

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, all! Yes, I’m finally putting a new one shot in a while, this in fun. Honestly, this fic is brought to you by two things: One, I’ve been writing so much angsty, plot-heavy stuff lately that I really just wanted to have a side project for myself that was something nice and light and fluffy to fall into when I needed a change. And two, I’ve always thought this fandom is in constant shortage of fics with trans characters, so I wanted to throw something of my own out there. 
> 
> A few disclaimers before we dive in: I am cisgender, so I do not personally know what it is like to be trans. I’ve done a lot of research and did my best to create the most accurate and respectful portrayal of a transgender character I could produce. A couple more notes regarding some of my decisions while writing this fic while be in the end notes, but just keep those things in mind for now. Also, as a heads up, some past transphobia is discussed in the fic, and there is one minor mention of a homophobic and a racist slur being used against a side character. Please be aware of that if that is triggering in any way to you. 
> 
> Finally, I do not personally know any of the real people these characters are based on, nor do I know anything about their gender identities or sexual orientations. Also, this fic is meant purely for fandom enjoyment and is not meant to be distributed to anyone associated with One Direction. 
> 
> Alright, I’m all done. Thank you to my love, my heart, my platonic soul mate, Jake, and my fearless and tireless beta Aleah for editing and brainstorming with me. Love you two. Now, I hope you enjoy x

There was a boy in the shop.

Which wouldn’t be weird if it wasn’t four in the afternoon on a Wednesday.

Louis was used to being the only one inside the shop during the week, when he was let himself in with his employee key and did homework at the table by the front window. It wasn’t ideal, and he had to cover the table in three layers of newspaper so the leftover salt and sugar and grease didn’t get all over his books, but it was quieter than the campus library or his flat, which was always filled with his three roommates. Plus, if he wanted a snack he had free range of whatever he could pull out of the display case.

And, of course, there was the added benefit that he was always the only person there. Until now, apparently.

Louis stood in the doorway, holding the doorknob of the shop’s front door in one hand as he looked at the other boy, who was leaning against the “community” wall, which was covered in flyers for university clubs and upcoming events. The boy looked up, eventually, and smiled, his back straightening. The countless layers of flyers pinned behind him rustled as he did so.

“Hi,” the boy said “Do you work here?”

Louis blinked, “Not right now.”

“Oh, okay,” the boy said, “Do you know anybody who does work here now?”

“No,” he replied, “We’re…nobody works here now.”

The boy frowned, “It says open on the door.”

“I—yeah, it _says_ that, but nobody comes in until at least eleven at night on the weekends,” Louis said, “Do you not go here?”

“No, I do,” the boy said, and then his lips puckered before twisting into a smile, “Although, come to think of it, I’ve never been here before 11 on a weekend night, either.”

Louis just stared forward and tapped his foot on the floor.

“Right, well,” he said, “What can I help you with? I hope you’re not hungry, I’m not allowed to turn any of the equipment on until nine on Thursday.”

“Oh, well then you don’t have anything to worry about,” the boy kept smiling, “I’m here because of the apartment.”

“The what?”

“The apartment?” he said, lifting his eyebrows. He ran a hand through his hair, loose curls popping over his fingers, and then lifted one long finger towards the ceiling, “Upstairs?”

“I don’t—“ Louis shook his head, “There’s nothing upstairs.”

“There’s been an ad in the student paper for a free apartment for a few weeks.”

“Then it’s probably old.”

“No, ah, one sec,” the boy plunged a hand into the deep front pocket of his army jacket and dug around, until he pulled out a folded-over newspaper page. He offered it to Louis, his smile still wide, and Louis just eyed him before he took the newspaper, keeping his eyes on the other boy until he unfolded the page and forced himself to look down.

At the very bottom of the page, there was a small, square add with a turquoise background.

_For Rent, One Bedroom Apartment. Price Negotiable. At 14 Lawrence Ave, above The Hangar._

The top of the page had the previous day’s date printed in neat black ink.

Louis looked back up, his finger crinkling along the edges of the paper as he met the eyes of Endless Smile Boy.

“I’ll call my boss,” he got out.

*******

Louis stood in the shop kitchen, amongst the dull silver fryers and the big industrial refrigerator and the faded lamented posters reminding employees to wash their hands. He tucked his cell phone to his ear and waited for it to ring. Of course, it went straight to voicemail. Because of course it did.

“Hi, Therese, it’s Louis,” he said, “There’s…um…there’s a boy here.”

He peeked his head around the corner. The boy was sitting at one of the tables, tapping at his phone. Louis ducked his head back behind the corner.

“He’s saying something about an apartment upstairs. I mean, I’m sure there’s nothing upstairs, but, I mean. I thought I would let you know. I don’t know. If there is, he wants to live there. Anyways. Call me.”

He hung up then and snuck out from behind the kitchen, trying to move slowly enough that his trainers wouldn’t squeak on the tile floor.

But of course they did, the Smiley Boy looked up and – fucking of course -- smiled widely when he saw Louis.

“Did you call your boss?”

“I did. But she didn’t answer,” Louis replied, rubbing the back of his neck, “She’s probably in class right now. She’s…usually in class.”

“Student here?”

“Doctorate student.”

“Ah,” the boy nodded. He pulled out his wallet from his pocket, retrieving a crumpled receipt from inside the folds, and then fished a pen out of his pocket. He wrote something on the receipt and then stood up, tucking away his wallet and pen, before offering the receipt to Louis. “Well, if you hear back from her, here’s my information so you can give it to her.”

“Right, will do,” Louis said, taking from him, “Uh, nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” the boy said, and then pranced  – _pranced_ , with a goddamn bounce in his step – out of the shop, letting the sticky door loudly clang behind him as it closed.

Once he was gone, Louis looked down at the receipt and smoothed his fingers over the hopelessly crumpled paper. Written there was a phone number, a university email, and then, a name and a little happy face.

Harry :)

*******

There was a real apartment.

Louis found that out the next day, which was the first time he saw his boss all week.

It was at the end of his work shift, right at 2:30 AM on Thursday – or, technically, Friday, now. Louis was wiping down the grease-caked stove in the corner of the kitchen when Therese walked in, slamming a wad of one dollar bills on the counter in front of him.

“There you go, Squirt.”

“Stop getting my tips wet,” Louis sighed, but took the wad anyways between his wet fingers and counted them, “Thirty, not bad.”

“Fridays and Saturdays are better, you know that,” she said. She was sitting on the front counter now, facing into the kitchen, tapping at her phone. Therese didn’t do much at The Hangar aside from order food shipments, make sure Louis hadn’t burned down the place, and give him his tips every weekend. Louis didn’t really mind that – it was her dad’s business, and he took care of the rent and just let her run it, and from what Louis had heard he would much rather have Therese popping in occasionally than have her dad breathing down Louis’s neck constantly.

“Yes, I know,” Louis said, tucking the bills into his back pocket. They had this conversation every weekend.

As he put away the tips his fingers brushed over a wrinkled, thin piece of paper, and he pulled it out, flipping it over. Harry’s scrawled name looked back at him and Louis turned to Therese.

“There was a boy here yesterday,” he said, extending the receipt towards her, “Asking about some apartment upstairs?”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did,”

“Shit. I never check my voicemails.”

“Then what’s the point in me calling you?”

“Oh, shush,” Therese sighed as she took the receipt and turned it over, “Where did he hear about the apartment?”

“Student newspaper.”

“Shit, I can’t believe anyone still reads that thing,” she shook her head, “Dad must have put the ad in. He’ll be thrilled someone finally bit.”

“So there’s an apartment up here?”

“Of course there is, Squirt, haven’t you seen the spiral staircase in the back hallway? And the mailboxes?”

“Um, no?”

“Oh. Well, they’re right back there,” Therese pointed to a door off to the side of the kitchen, “No one’s lived there in a while, though, so I’d have to get it checked it out and maybe cleaned up a little bit. But in the meantime you can tell your friend it’s his.”

“He’s not – I don’t know him.”

“Well, it’s still his. Give him a call. Or whatever the hell you kids do these days,” she said, handing the receipt back to Louis.

“He said you could call him.”

“Nah, you already know him, it’s easier for you. Just take care of it for me, yeah?” Therese yawned, and then slid off the counter, “I gotta get home. You heading out soon?”

“After I finish cleaning up.”

“Okay, Squirt, stay safe on your way home. And get some sleep.”

“I’ll try,” he called after her as she walked out. Louis glanced back at the receipt and then just shook his head as he put it back into his pocket.

Looked like he and Smiley Boy would be seeing a lot more of each other.

*******

Louis woke up the next day at one in the afternoon to the sound of an orgy next door.

That wasn’t uncommon in his place.

He’d thought moving into a flat would be great after his less-than-stellar dorm first year. But it wasn’t that great when all three of his roommates were dating each other. And liked to have a lot of sex. Loud sex. Loud threesome sex.

Louis pulled his headphones on, and then got out his laptop. He had two papers due that week and a few chapters to read for his English course on Monday, but he remembered that first, he had to write an email. So, he opened his university mail server and got typing.

_Re: apartment_

_Um, hi, this is Louis (from The Hangar, I don’t know if you remember my name? Or if I told it to you?) Anyways, my boss said the apartment is yours if you still want it. (And that I can contact you about it. Here’s her number, though, warning: she’s a flake)_

Louis signed it with Therese’s number and his name again, sent the message, and then scrolled through a few more school emails while he had his inbox open.

A ping emitted after a couple minutes telling him he had a new message, and when he scrolled to the top of his inbox, he saw that it was from Harry.

_Re: apartment_

_Hiiiii Louis from The Hangar. Nice to know your name. It’s a nice name._

_And yay! That sounds great. I’ll call your boss in a little bit, I just wanted to say thank you first._

_Harry :)_

Louis sighed as he closed out of his inbox. Weird kid.

*******

Harry moved in while Louis was studying for his upcoming Playwriting exam, which was a bullshit class, and reading “The Seagull” was bullshit, and everything was bullshit.

When he heard knocking on the glass window of the shop, he jumped and looked up. Harry was standing outside, smiling at him, and waved when Louis looked at him. Louis gave a careful wave back, and then Harry pointed to the front door. Right. Louis had locked it again when he got inside.

He got up and went over to the door, undoing the latch, and opened the door wide as Harry shuffled in, carrying a rather tedious looking stack of cardboard boxes.

“Hi,” Harry said, falling into his regular smile with ease.

“Hey,” Louis returned, closing and re-latching the door behind him, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m moving in,” Harry said, “I just met Therese at Pack Mule and she had me sign the papers there, and said you would probably be here to let me in. And I don’t have class until four so I figured I could just go ahead and get my stuff from my dorm.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, why not?” Harry shrugged and smiled, then glanced at the table where Louis had all his work spread out, “I’ll try not to make too much noise if you’re working.”

“That’s alright,” Louis said, “Uh, have fun moving in.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, and then he was off, going into the back of the store and then into the back hallway. Louis watched him go and then sat back at the table. He had barely picked up his play again before Harry reappeared, his hands behind his back.

“Um,” he smiled, “I’m sorry, I know you’re working, but can you give me a hand? I have a lot of things and the stairs are a bit tricky.”

“Sure,” Louis shrugged, “I need a break anyways. This shit is rotting my brain.”

“What class it for?” Harry asked, glancing at the papers and books Louis had left on the table.

“Playwriting.”

“Oof. Fine arts credit?”

“No, I’m a theater, major, ironically. But with a performing focus, so, this shit is over my head,” Louis sighed, “Um, and what are you studying?”  

“Double major. Business and law.”

“Ah.”

That was the dullest goddamn thing Louis could think to attach to someone as stupidly bubbly as Harry but, whatever.

Louis followed after Harry, picking up one of the boxes that Harry had left at the base of the stairs. He let out a weak wheeze as he lifted it.

“Jesus, what do you have in here?”

Harry just cackled and started climbing the stairs two at a time, not offering any sort of answer. Louis snorted and followed him, straying behind because the stairs were twisty and had massive gaps in each them and he was going to climb them carefully and one at a time like a cautious, rational human being, so help him God.

“You know, I’m sure these stairs would be less dangerous if you climbed them normally,” Louis called. Harry just laughed again. By then he was so far up he was out of Louis’s line of sight.

Finally, Louis made it upstairs and saw that the final step led to a tiny ledge and a single door. Harry had set his box down on the ledge and when Louis finally joined him, he fished a key out of his pocket. He looked back at Louis and held up the key, flipping it over before going to open the door.

“I actually don’t know what it looks like yet, this should be exciting,” he said as he twisted the key in the lock.

“Yeah. Renting an apartment without looking at it first. Exciting is one word.”

Harry just shook his head with another laugh, jiggled the doorknob hard, and then shoved it open.

It was clear just from walking inside that even though Therese had cleaned the place – or least tried to – it still hadn’t been used in at least fifteen years. Harry strolled through the space easily and with his usual wide smile, while Louis stayed in the doorway, looking around at the tiny entrance area, the cramped kitchen, a small space that apparently was meant to double as a living room and a bedroom, and then a small door that led to a bathroom. There was no furniture, and the old appliances in the kitchen looked unreliable at best, and from his limited view into the bathroom, Louis honestly couldn’t tell if the shower curtain was supposed to be white or yellow.

“Shit,” he mumbled, finally wandering farther in to join Harry in the bedroom-living room. There was, at least, a bed frame shoved into the corner, but no mattress to speak of, “Mate, I’d recommend you finding somewhere else, this place is a shithole.”

“No, no, it’s great,” Harry insisted, “I’ll just have to bring some of the bigger stuff out of my old place and it’ll look better.”

“I think half the shit in here is broken.”

“I can fix it, probably,” Harry said, then shrugged, “I’ve always wanted to do something like that. I watch a lot of HGTV.”

“Of course you do,” Louis shook his head and then set down his box on the worn carpet, “Well, have fun, then.”

“Do you need to get back to work?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Well, thank you for helping me, Louis,” Harry said, smiling, “I guess I’ll be seeing you more now.”

Louis realized a few seconds later Harry was holding out one large hand to him. Louis tentatively reached out and his hand was nearly swallowed in Harry’s firm grip.

“You’re welcome, Harry,” he said, “And yeah, I’ll be seeing you.”

*******

Louis spent the next week being interrupted from his studying by Harry banging on the front door asking to be let into the shop. Each day he was carrying a different thing; one day it was a beat-up looking toolbox, the next it was three large cans of paint, then a toaster.

And then one day he was lifting an entire mattress into the shop, and Louis had to race to the front door as quickly as possible just so Harry didn’t kill himself trying to carry it by himself.

“You know – “ Louis got out as he lifted the back end of the mattress inside, “I stopped locking the front door awhile ago, you can just let yourself in,”

“I know,” Harry smiled, “I like when you let me in, though.”

“Why?”

“Because I like seeing you.”

“Great, good to know,” Louis wheezed, dropping the end of the mattress, “Jesus, how the hell is this thing supposed to go upstairs?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Harry shrugged, “I’ll just push it up.”

“You’ll…okay,” Louis hung his head, huffing again, “You do that. I have an exam tomorrow.”

“Oh, well, get back to it, then,” Harry grinned, “I’ll try not to make too much noise.”

Louis just nodded and went back to his work.

He spent twenty minutes listening to Harry try to push the mattress upstairs before he eventually just gave up and went to help him. It took the two of them another half an hour to get the thing up the stairs, and Louis was almost late to his afternoon class, but he figured it was worth it if Harry lived another day.

*******

Louis clocked into work on Thursday night at nine.

The big rush didn’t start for another two hours, but he still went in to make sure everything was set up properly. Abigail, the girl who worked the late Thursday afternoon shift ahead of him, usually didn’t turn half the big equipment on because nobody ordered anything that wasn’t out of the pre-made case before it got late. So he made sure the stovetop was at least on, along with the main fryers, and that they were clean and ready for fresh oil. He checked the fridges to make sure all the ingredients were stocked and thawing, and that the soda machine was working and the other drink fridge was filled with bottles of soda and juice and water.

In the time before the shop got too busy, he fried chicken and chips and cooked a few burgers and kept them warm in the cooker, and put some buns and waffles in the toaster ovens. He only paused to go the front of the shop and serve up pre-made food from the case to a few people that were passing by for a snack before going out.

Then, around eleven, the big groups started to filter in, ordering wings and burgers and fries and milkshakes. Most of them were already pretty buzzed and Louis patiently counted out their change from far-too-big bills and waited as they tried to remember their PIN, and then got them their food as fast as he could move, slapping sauce onto pre-made sandwiches and putting everything into greasy paper baskets.

It went on like that, with waves of different crowds, for the next four hours. His shift technically ended at two thirty in the morning, but he stayed until four to clean up anyways and would sometimes entertain people who stumbled in after hours and just really wanted something to eat. Louis’s tip jar was half full by the end of the night but he still waited for Therese to come and count it out for him so it was on record that he was just taking the tips and nothing from the register. Then, when everything was clean and turned off, he headed back home in the pitch black, and went right back at the same time on the next two nights.

Louis only worked three days a week, and the hours were awful and limited, but he made plenty just from the tips and the hourly shift wage. Plus, he would be bored to tears working a weekend afternoon shift like Abigail, where everyone was sober. And he also didn’t want to spend his weekend nights sitting at home trying to justify why he wasn’t going out and forcing himself to do things he didn’t care about.

So, Louis trudged back into his flat at 4:30 in the morning, and crashed for the next several hours until his coursework and Friday classes forced him to get up again.

All in all, not a bad gig.

*******

Harry slowly began a more permanent fixture in the shop, and thus, in Louis’s life.

Louis still kept going to The Hangar to do homework, even though he would get about halfway through his work and then Harry would come bouncing through the door. He was always wearing his headphones and singing aloud, and sometimes he was carrying a bag of groceries or just his backpack and a textbook.

“Hi, Louis,” he chirped every time, “What are you doing today?”

Louis always told him some variation of “homework,” and Harry always grinned like it was the most interesting thing he had ever heard.

“Cool! Well, I’ll let you work,” he would say, and then would go bounce back into the hallway, returning right back to singing.

Admittedly, it was nice to be around him. He was a refreshing, if not confusing, contrast to the constantly exhausted students that surrounded Louis in the library, in his courses, in the dining halls. Louis was pretty sure he had never met a human being who was so damn happy, especially not a goddamn law student. Well, business and law. But by that logic Harry should have been twice as miserable. And yet, he clearly wasn’t.

So, he didn’t mind when Harry interrupted his work, or when he heard his footsteps from overheard as the other boy wandered around his apartment. Harry had just slotted himself right into Louis’s life, until it was hard to remember a time when he wasn’t there.

*******

Harry living on top of Louis’s favorite study spot didn’t become a problem until one Monday about a week and a half after he had moved in. Louis had settled in to study for yet another exam, and within minutes there was a prolonged, persistent banging coming from upstairs.

Louis slowly lowered his book, looking above him. He felt like the ceiling should be shuddering with how loud the noise was, but it was completely still even as the constant banging droned on over his head.

_Harry._

Louis huffed, dropping his head back to look at his book. The noise would pass. It had to.

But it didn’t. Half an hour later, it was still happening, and Louis wasn’t getting anything done. Finally, he set his book down and got up from the table, heading to the back hallway.

“Harry?” he shouted as loudly as he could once he got to the bottom of the stairs, but of course he couldn’t be heard over the noise. So he sighed, set his shoulders back, and started climbing the stairs.

The noise was nearly unbearable at the very top, drowning on loudly and endlessly, and he braced himself in front of the door before he banged his fist on the door several times, shouted Harry’s name again, and waited.

The banging stopped, and Louis heard footsteps from inside the apartment a few seconds before the door opened.

As soon as it did, Louis’s mouth went dry.

When Harry opened the door, he leaned his elbow against the door and pressed the back of his hand to his damp forehead. His hair was pulled back with a dark red headscarf that was barely doing any good, his curls thick and frizzy and fighting against the fabric. The muscles in his arm curved as he leaned against the door, and his other hand fidgeted with the edge of his white vest, a full V of sweat clinging to the front of the fabric.

“Hey, Louis,” he smiled, “What’s up?”

“Hey,” Louis said, licking his lip, “Um.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, and Louis cleared his throat.

“Sorry, I don’t want to be annoying, but — I’m trying to study.”

“Oh, fuck,” Harry said, his eyes widening, “I’m being loud, aren’t I?”

“A little,” Louis managed, “I can go to the library, though, if you need to do work.”

_Wait? What was he saying? This was his study spot. He was here first, even if Harry lived here. Leave without a fight? Who was he?_

He was a boy who was very distracted by trying to see through the sweat-covered patch on Harry’s top, apparently.

“No, don’t worry about it,” Harry shook his head, “I’m just reinforcing the bedframe since it’s a little wobbly. But I can do it later, I only had a few minutes left anyways.”

“I’m going to be here a couple more hours, you don’t have to wait.”

“It’s no problem, really,” Harry shrugged, “I can do some painting or something.”

“Oh. Well. As long as that’s okay with you.”

“It’s more than okay. As long as you can focus,” Harry smiled, “Good luck studying. Thanks for stopping by to see me.”

“Um – yeah,” Louis swallowed again, “Nice seeing you too. And thanks.”

Harry just nodded and then shut the door, leaving Louis standing outside his doorway, somehow unable to move.

*******

The next day when Louis came into the shop to study, there was a paper wrapped sandwich waiting on the counter, with a sticky note: _Sorry for the noise! – Harry :)_

When Louis found it, he felt a little swoop in his stomach, and he immediately had to set the sandwich down, because he recognized that little swoop.

Oh, no.

*******

It had been a little while since Louis had had a crush on anybody.

A real, deep-down sort of crush, at least. One that wasn’t on a cute barista that smiled at him at the library coffee kiosk, or on a kid in one of his classes that agreed with him during a class discussion and then smiled at him. Basically, a crush that lasted more than an hour after a boy smiled at him. He hadn’t forbidden himself from having crushes or anything – there just hadn’t been anyone that had caught his eye, at least not since he and his last boyfriend had broken it off last March after a rather lackluster few months together.

But Harry…Harry was now an issue.

Because Harry was pretty. Like, undeniably pretty. But he was also so sweet, and funny in his own bizarre way, and he was always around, being happy and pretty and sweet and funny all at once.

And he smiled at Louis a lot. So that didn’t help.

So maybe Louis had a crush on Harry. Just a little bit.

He didn’t even know if Harry was into guys. Wouldn’t that would lovely and cliché and stupid, to have a crush on a straight boy.

He’d get over, maybe.

Or at least that’s what he told himself every time Harry said hello to him and he felt his cheeks get hot and his brain short-circuit on how exactly he should say “hi” back.

But yeah. He’d get over it.

*******

Louis gave himself permission to look Harry up online.

As in, he actually sat down at his laptop with a cup of tea, took several deep breaths, and then convinced himself it was okay to type Harry’s name into google. There were a lot of results for his name, but Louis was eventually able to narrow it down by typing in the name of their university. A Facebook page popped up, as well as a Twitter and an Instagram, but they were all private. Weird, considering how open Harry seemed in real life, but, whatever. The Facebook and Twitter weren’t set up yet – they didn’t even have profile pictures – but at least the Instagram was clearly Harry’s. He was covering his face with both hands in the profile picture, but that was definitely his stupidly fluffy, curly hair, and that was definitely his cross tattoo on his hand.

His bio was pretty simple, just his name and the name of the university and “Be nice, be good” followed by a smiley face and a rainbow emoji. _A rainbow_. Okay. That was interesting.

Louis tapped his fingers against his desk before clicking the “follow” button. The “requested” notification appeared in place of the follow button, and Louis immediately exited the tab and forced himself to open up his abandoned Netflix tab and return to watching the episode of The Get Down he had paused earlier.

But just five minutes later, his phone pinged. He grabbed for it, pausing the show immediately when he saw it was an Instagram notification that Harry had approved his follow, and also followed him back. Louis swiftly opened his Instagram app, pulling his knees to his chest as he opened up Harry’s profile.

And. There were five fucking pictures.

“And you fucking kidding me?” he shouted out loud, and then glanced to his door before remembering that it was Wednesday, and Niall, Liam, and Zayn were out on their weekly movie night date. No one was around to hear his stupid, crush-stalking frustration.

Still, though, because Louis was thorough he clicked through all five pictures, from least to most intriguing, because he liked to give himself something to look forward to.

The first one he clicked on was a stock rainbow flag picture, which Harry had posted back in June for Pride. So, the gay signs were promising. So were the straight ally signs. Louis was trying a little too hard not to lose his mind.

The next was a picture of Harry’s (very large, very veiny) hand, his fingers spread wide and his nails painted a nice mint green, captioned “My colour??” Cute. Good.

Then Louis clicked on a picture of Harry hugging a pretty blonde girl and kissing her cheek, which almost sent Louis into a long, sad spiral until he checked the caption and saw “Best sister ever dropping me off!” Okay. One sad gay crisis averted, for now.

The other two pictures were selfies, and Louis curled himself up into a very tight ball as he clicked on them. Because these were also both _shirtless_ selfies.

Well. Enough to show Harry was shirtless, at least. One was captioned “New ink!” and only showed the bottom half of Harry’s face and the area right below his collarbones, enough to show off the two birds tattooed on his chest. The other selfie was the most recent picture on his feed, and it was a full picture of Harry’s face, along with his bare shoulders, and his fist resting on his cheek as his puffy eyes gazed into the camera. Maybe he took it while he was in bed. The caption “Sleepyyyyyy” certainly pointed that way. Louis tried not to think about that too much, though, because it was…a lot. Of course, it would have been a lot more if Harry wanted to show off more than his damn shoulders.

“God fucking damn it, Harry,” Louis sighed, “Why can’t you be cute _and_ show me your abs?”

Just then, a notification popped up on the bottom of Louis’s screen, and he clicked on it to see Harry had liked four of his pictures. _Four!_ He clicked through them to see which ones he had liked, and saw it was all selfies. Did straight boys like other boys’ selfies? Was that a thing they did?

Louis was still trying hard not to lose his mind when he eventually fell asleep in his desk chair, his phone still clutched in one hand.

*******

“Hi, Louis!”

Louis looked up to see Harry was strolling through the doorway of the shop, carrying an enormous load of groceries.

“Oh, hi,” he returned.

“How was your exam today?”

“Oh, uh…you remembered I had an exam?”

“Of course I did. I saw you studying for it every day for it.” Harry grinned, “So? How was it?”

“Not bad, I guess. Knew most of it. Not all of it but most of it.”

“Well, good.” Harry smiled again and then readjusted the bags in his hands, his face scrunching up a bit as he did.

“Do you, um – do you need help?” Louis asked. He didn’t wait for an answer before he was standing up and taking a bag from Harry. The other boy looked at Louis and smiled yet again.

_Damn it._

“Oh, thanks,” Harry said, and then laughed, “Guess I need to put more work into arm day.”

Louis swallowed dryly, forcing himself not to look at Harry’s arms. It was a challenge, though, because today he was wearing a short sleeved, fitted navy blue shirt that perfectly fit the curves of his biceps, the veins in them pushing out a bit from the effort of holding the rest of the bags.

_Damn. It._

“Maybe just…don’t try to carry eight bags at once,” Louis offered weakly, already taking another bag from Harry’s grasp. Harry just gave him another sunny smile and then followed closely after him as Louis went into the back hallway and climbed the stairs.

When Harry unlocked the apartment, Louis looked around to see that inside, the apartment was a far cry from the unfinished mess Louis had seen a few weeks ago. It looked pretty good, actually. There was a navy blue futon couch set up along one wall and a coffee table in front of it, which was covered in textbooks and paper. Along another wall there were two clothing racks which were filled with jackets and plaid shirts, and a long line of trainers and boots on the floor underneath the racks. Harry’s bed was shoved against one wall while an overturned crate served as his bedside table, which was covered only in a simple lamp and a paperback book.

Harry went into the small kitchen that was right next to the front door, setting down his bags on the countertop. Most of the old appliances were still in place, but Louis figured that they must still work if Harry was dealing with them.

“It looks really good in here,” Louis said, and Harry grinned.

“Thanks. I have just about everything by now. I’m going to get a set of drawers for the clothes I don’t have to hang up – like jeans and t-shirts and stuff – since those are all stuffed under my bed right now. And maybe a bookcase, if I can find a cheap one. Oh, and a blender! I really want a blender. I miss making smoothies.”

He unpacked the grocery bags as he spoke, and Louis couldn’t help but look over to see what he had bought. Cinnamon flavored cereal, strawberries, two bunches of bananas, paper towels, a box of pasta, eggs, spinach, a couple frozen meals. Wait, why did he care what Harry had bought? That was creepy. That was _really_ creepy.

“Well, uh, it still looks nice now,” he said. He forced himself to set down the bags he had carried up, and then turned around and looked at Harry’s half-bedroom, half-sitting room. His eyes eventually found the posters and pictures over Harry’s bed. It was a mixture of small, Polaroid pictures that Louis assumed were personal pictures, a few rather cliché quotes printed on thick paper, and then a few actual posters, mostly of rock bands. And then…one in particular.

“Is that a David Bowie poster?” Louis asked. He looked behind him to see Harry had stopped putting away his groceries and was instead looking at Louis. Louis motioned in the direction of the bed and Harry eventually smiled and nodded.

“It is.”

“You went for the full Ziggy look, too, I see.”

“Well, it’s the best look, innit?”

“I guess,” Louis chuckled, “But I mean, that’s pretty gay, mate.”

Harry straightened up and gave Louis a raised eyebrow, to which Louis raised his hands in defense.

“Hey, I’m gay, when I say it’s means something different.”

“Oh. Well,” Harry laughed, his expression lightening a bit, “I’m gay, too, so I’m allowed to have the poster.”

Louis swallowed thickly, trying to process that.

Harry was gay.

Harry liked boys.

Okay. Good to finally know. And also, horrible and tempting to know.

“You know you look like him a bit,” Harry said as he turned back around, going right back to putting his food away.

“Like who?”

“Like Bowie.”

“Don’t really see it, but guess I’ll take that, then,” Louis managed, and Harry laughed again. He pulled out a pint of ice cream, then, waving it around as he turned back around to face Louis.

“Should we celebrate?” he asked.

“Celebrate what?”

“Your exam. David Bowie. Anything you want.”

Louis thought about it. He could say no, but, well, it was Friday, and he didn’t have class for the rest of the day, and there was nothing he was going to finish tonight before his shift that he couldn’t do tomorrow.

“Okay, why not,” he shrugged, and Harry gave him a dangerously beautiful smile.

Harry played “The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust” on his phone as they ate their ice cream, and he asked about Louis’s day and the rest of his classes and if work was going okay.

Louis felt the swoop in his stomach return as Harry talked to him, and this time, it felt worse.

*******

The fall semester crawled by. October eventually swept in until all the paths to Louis’s classes were surrounded by orange and yellow trees, and he didn’t have to check the weather every morning to know he would need a jacket to get to class.

Harry would still bounce into The Hangar every day with a sunny smile and a chirped greeting, but Louis didn’t see him much other than that. Harry’s school load was apparently getting busier, too, if the stack of books he carried with him into the shop every day was any indication.

Which was fine. Totally, completely fine. Except Louis missed him, a little bit. Which was ridiculous because he saw him every day in person and then overheard him once Harry went into his apartment, and then Harry texted him stupid jokes and pictures once Louis got home to his own flat.

But Louis had a full-on, raging crush and he was convinced that no amount of Harry was ever going to be enough.

Still, though, he carried on with his mid-semester coursework and his work hours. Work was worse now, though, because more and more people were going out on the weekends, trying to relieve some of their school stress. At least on Saturday night, their busiest night, he had Abigail, who had started to come in for excess weekend-night hours. Still, on Thursday and Friday, he was all by himself again.

It was now the three thirty in the morning on the second Friday since Louis’s work life had picked up, and he just really wanted to go home. He could, since Therese had just left, but Louis still had to finish putting the excess food back into the freezer and wiping down the back counters. Therese didn’t always come in for afternoon check-ins, but even if she didn’t he would just have to come in early on Saturday to clean up what he had left behind, and at least now he was still on the clock.

Louis was scrubbing at one particularly tough grease stain on the edge of the stove when he heard a squeak of footsteps, and when he looked up he saw Harry was standing in the doorway of the back hallway. He was dressed in a black V-neck t-shirt and a baggy pair of plaid pajama pants, his feet covered in socks and slightly pigeon-toed, and oh, no, Louis was too under-rested for this much Harry right now.

“Hi,” Harry said, his voice low and raspy. He reached up to rub at his eye with a loose fist, and Louis gripped the wet rag in his hand tightly as he swallowed before speaking.

“Hey,” Louis returned, “Uh, what’s up? Did I wake you up?”

“No, not really,” Harry smiled, shaking his head, “I was already awake. I like being up late sometimes.”

“Oh, alright,” Louis said. Harry was going over to the front countertop, and soon he was sitting on top of it. Louis kept scrubbing at the grease-caked stove.

“Can you make me something?”

Louis looked up. Harry was still sitting on the countertop, his legs spread wide and his feet kicking slightly.

“Oh,” Louis said, “Ah, are you hungry?”

“A little,” Harry shrugged, “I have food upstairs but...I don’t know, I can smell some of the stuff you make down here, and it always smells good.”

Louis snorted. He hated the smell of burning grease after spending so much time around it but…he could definitely remember a time he had liked it.

“Well, I guess I can make you something.”

“Okay, great,” Harry said, kicking his feet a bit, “I left my wallet upstairs, can I pay you back tomorrow?”

“No, no,” Louis shook his head, “We’re off hours, anyways, might as well be on the house. What do you want?”

“Um,” Harry tilted his head, “Chicken and waffles? Those are good, from what I remember.”

“Mate,” Louis shook his head, “How pissed were you last time you were here? Chicken and waffles never taste good if you’re sober.”

“Oh,” Harry laughed, “Um, a burger, then.”

“Sure. Chips?”

“If you’ll split them with me.”

Louis snorted, “Okay, why not.”

He flicked the grill back on and got one of the thawed patties out of the fridge, putting it on the grill. He pressed the spatula into it, letting it sizzle, and then made sure there was enough fresh oil in the fryer for one serving of chips. Once the oil was poured in, he dumped in some sliced-up potatoes and gave the basket a little shake, letting all the chips get swallowed up into the oil before he went back to the burger to flip it over again.

Louis felt Harry’s gaze on him but he focused on his work, making sure the burger was cooked and the fries weren’t burning.

“Are you by yourself back here?”

He glanced up at Harry’s voice, seeing the other boy watching him, and he looked back down at the fryer.

“Oh,” he said, “Yep, it’s just me.”

“Doing everything?”

“Mmhm,” Louis flipped the burger over again, letting one of the cooked sides get a little browner, “Last semester, when I started working here, it was two of us doing the late shift, and we switched between doing the food and the register. But the guy I was working with had to go home for a while for some family stuff and I just...picked up doing both? Except for Saturdays, another girl comes and helps me then,” he shrugged, “Honestly, if you prep ahead of time, you can handle everything. I pre-make almost everything before the crowds get here and then just pre-heat everything.”

He shrugged again, pulling the burger off the grill and turning off the stovetop.

“I like it, though, being in control of everything. And I get paid for two people so I’m happy.”

Louis placed the burger patty onto a spare cutting board and then got the chips out of the fryer, tossing them free of extra grease and then setting them aside.

“What do you want on your burger?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“Alright, then,” Louis laughed. He chopped up a bit of lettuce, a slice of tomato, some red onion, and a slice of cheese, and stacked them all up on one half of a bun. He squirted some ketchup and mayonnaise onto the other half of the bun, slid the patty onto the bread, and put then it all together. He put the burger into one of the plastic serving baskets, scooped some chips next to it, and then handed the basket to Harry.

“Order up,” he said, and Harry just smiled.

“Eat with me,” he said immediately, pulling a chip out of the basket and bringing to his mouth. Louis tried not to stare too much at the way Harry chewed.

“I – ”

“Please? I know you have to clean up but just sit with me for a few minutes.”

Louis paused, and Harry sighed and dug into one of the pockets of his pajama pants, pulling out a ten-pound bill and dropping it into Louis’s now-empty tip jar.

“I thought you said you didn’t have money on you,” Louis managed weakly, and Harry shrugged.

“I lied. Sit with me.”

Louis huffed, double-checking that the machinery was off, and then trudged into the dining area.

“You’re very persistent, you know.”

Harry just grinned and clambered off the counter. Even though he had gotten a late start, he still got to the dining area faster than Louis, and pulled out a chair from the table that was pushed right up against the front window. As Louis pulled out the chair across from Harry, he gazed out of the window to the sidewalk outside. There were a few people hanging outside, shivering against the early autumn cold, smoking, chatting. It was too late to go to anymore parties, so they were probably just planning on how to kill time until the sun came up again in a few hours.

“So do you ever get to go out?”

Louis tore his gaze away from the window and looked back at harry, who had picked up his burger and was holding it to his mouth.

“Oh,” Louis said. He reached out, grabbing a chip, “Not really. I mean, I work right through all the best party times.”

“That sucks.”

“I mean, I guess,” he shrugged, “Missing out on the classic uni experience, but gotta pay my rent somehow.”

“Fair.”

“What about you, though? I never see you go out on the weekends, or come home when I’m working…” he said. He crossed his fingers under the table that Harry didn’t say, _Yeah, I never come home because I stay over at my super hot boyfriend’s place! Yep, 100% not single here!_

“Oh, well, I don’t really go out either,” Harry said, “I went to a few parties my first couple weeks here, but, uh, they aren’t great when you don’t know anybody. Parties are a shitty way to try to meet new people,” he shrugged, reaching for his burger again, “So, uh, I guess I’m a bit of recluse.”

Louis shook his head, “Promise me you’ll go out at least once this semester. You’re too – “ he halted himself before he said, _pretty_ “ – too, um, _fun_ to stay in all by yourself.”

“Will you take me to a party, then?” Harry asked, lifting his eyebrows. Louis swallowed thickly, wishing he had grabbed himself something to drink, because his mouth and throat felt incredibly dry.

“I already told you I have to work every weekend, you menace.”

“Well, if there’s a party in the middle of the week, take me,” Harry said.

“You’re going to make me fail out of all my classes and lose my job,” Louis shook his head, “Making me stay late at work _and_ take you to parties in the middle of the week.”

“Oh,” Harry said, his eyes widening, “I didn’t – you can go back to cleaning, if you need to, I didn’t mean to distract you – “

“Harry, I’m joking,” Louis sighed, holding up his hands, “I’ll make you food whenever you want, and I’ll take you to a party whenever you want. I don’t mind,”

“Really?” Harry asked, and he sounded so genuinely excited Louis had to lace his fingers together in his lap.

“Yeah,” he replied, “I’ll do anything you want, love.”

*******

Louis was about to leave his flat to go his afternoon class on Tuesday when he walked in on Liam and Niall screaming and unpacking a large cardboard package.

“Three weeks!” Niall was yelling, ripping open the box with a pair of scissors, “Three weeks we have waited for this thing to come in! First, the international shipping fucked up and it ended up in Malaysia! And then it didn’t get corrected and they had to ship a fresh one out! But finally, it’s here!”

“It’s here!” Liam repeated. He reached over Niall, ripping the final panel of cardboard aside, “Oh my God, she’s gorgeous.”

“Stunning! Breathtaking!”

“What the hell are you two doing?” Louis asked, and it was enough to make both of them look up.

“I’ll tell you what we’re doing,” Niall said, and then reached into the destroyed cardboard box and yanked out another box, “We got a motherfucking Nutri Bullet!”

“As seen on TV!” Liam added.

“The goddess of as seen on TV appliances!”

“Is that the thing you guys keep watching thirty minute American commercials for?” Louis asked, “And…sorry, isn’t it just a really small blender?”

“Yes, and she’s changing the game,” Niall said. He set the box down only for Liam to immediately begin to rip apart the second box. Niall wandered across the kitchen to the place where their old blender sat, and picked it up, “Goodbye, darling, the queen has arrived.”

“Well, you two have fun,” Louis sighed. He started towards the door again and then stopped, turning to stare at where Niall was still carrying the blender out of the kitchen.

Didn’t Harry need a blender?

Yes. He remembered that Harry specifically needed a blender.

And now, the universe had given him a blender in the form of two of his flat mates ordering American garbage online.

Maybe God loved the gays after all.

“Niall,” Louis said, “Niall, I will pay you twenty pounds for that blender.”

“Mate, why?” Niall asked, “You live here, Lou. You can share in the Nutri Bullet magic.”

“I’m making milkshakes for the whole building!” Liam called from the kitchen.

“No, no, I don’t need it. I don’t care,” Louis sighed, shaking his head, “It’s for a friend,”

“A friend? You have a friend that needs a blender, of all things?”

“Yes. I know it’s very specific, but he just moved into an apartment and he doesn’t have a blender and he really wants one because he likes smoothies and – “

“Who likes smoothies?” Zayn’s voice asked. A moment later he strolled in from the main hallway, kissing Niall on the forehead, and then went into the kitchen, pecking Liam on the cheek before digging into the cabinet to find his sacred stash of American cookies.

“Louis’s friend does,” Niall said, “He also wants our old blender, apparently.”

“Why does Louis’s friend want our old blender?” Zayn asked.

“Because he wants to make smoothies, we established this,” Louis huffed, cradling his face in his hands, “God, living with you people is impossible.”

“Hey, take it easy, Lou,” Niall laughed, “You can have this thing for free.”

“Oh, thank you,” Louis breathed out, accepting the box from Niall immediately, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, mate,” Niall laughed, “I was just going to leave it in the hall for anyone to take, and who knows how long it would’ve been there. You’re doing us a favor, really.”

“Milkshakes round one is done!” Liam shouted, holding up the body of the Nutri Bullet to show off the brown mixture inside.

“Is that any different from using a regular blender, by chance?” Louis asked, “You know what, never mind. I’m indebted to all of you and your useless appliance purchases.”

Louis skittered back to his room, then, to stash the blender in his closet, and then ran out of the flat as fast as possible, since he had probably made himself late to class.

*******

He walked into his lecture hall ten minutes late. But when he thought about the appliance sitting in his closet, he figured it was worth it.

*******

Louis knocked on Harry’s apartment door three hours later, carrying a poorly wrapped cardboard box and bouncing on his toes in anticipation. Within moments, Harry answered the door wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of black basketball shorts, his hair wet.

“Louis?” he laughed, his eyes immediately going to the box, “What have you got there?”

“I brought you a present,” Louis said, “Can I come in?”

“Of course you can come in,” Harry said, still laughing, and opened the door wide. Louis wandered past him, shifting the box in his arms. Inside, the apartment smelled like soap and hot water, probably since Harry had just gotten out of the shower. It was a little messy, a few jackets thrown on the floor, and when Louis got to the kitchen, the entire countertop was coated in magazines, which Harry pushed to the side once he was inside the kitchen.

“Sorry for the mess,” Harry said, “I just got all my subscriptions forwarded to this address.”

“It’s okay,” Louis shrugged. He set the box down and then leaned over the counter, “Now open your present.”

“Oh, well, I wanted to put some tea on first – “

“Harry, come on,” Louis pushed the box further across the counter, “Open it now, I need to see if you like it.”

“Alright, alright. I’m sure I will,” Harry said, shaking his head. He ripped off the bow first, then tore at the paper on the sides. When he got to the plain box, he tilted his head, curiously prying at the cardboard panels, and then finally looked inside. He stared down into the box for a long few seconds, and then slowly lifted his head back up, his eyes wide.

“Louis…”

“Take it out,” Louis coaxed. Harry looked down again, and he reached both hands inside to lift out the blender. Once it was out, he set it carefully on the counter next to its original box and just stared at it.

“Did you buy this?” he eventually.

“No,” Louis said, “My roommates were getting rid of it, and I knew you wanted one so I took it off their hands. There’s nothing wrong with it, though, I promise. It’s just a bit old.”

Harry shook his head again, and then before Louis could even open his mouth again, Harry was rounding the counter and then throwing his arms around Louis, squeezing him hard enough to make the other boy yelp.

“Louis,” Harry said, “Louis, thank you.”

“I – “ Louis squeaked, “It’s just a blender, Harry.”

“Yes, but you thought of me, and it’s just so nice,” Harry was saying, squeezing him even harder, “ _You’re_ so nice.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” Louis managed. He eventually lifted his arms, squeezing Harry back.

This was nice, he thought. Harry smelled like evergreen scented body wash. And Harry’s back muscles were nice. Wait. Louis, no. Focus.

“Um,” Louis managed, “I can head out and let you get back to whatever you were doing…”

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Harry said quickly, pulling away, “I just got out of the shower, and, um, I have some coursework but it’s nothing that can’t wait.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Do you want to stay?” Harry asked, “Oh, wait, _you_ probably have something to do – “

“No, no, I really don’t,” Louis shook his head. He thought about the mountain of Playwriting homework he had to tackle but… _fuck_ Playwriting. Harry wanted to hang out with him, “I can stay.”

“Oh! Cool. Great,” Harry said, “Um, do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Yeah,” Louis managed, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Okay!” Harry said quickly. He was smiling again, and God, it had been about five minutes since Louis had last seen Harry smile but he was glad that he was doing it again, “I’ll make you a smoothie. To thank you for the blender.”

“Please do that,” Louis laughed, and Harry leaned in to hug him again before he was bounding into the kitchen. Louis just smiled as he watched go, and then picked up an issue of Rolling Stone from the stack of magazines on Harry’s counter. Before he could even open it, though, his eyes caught on something on the cover.

“Hey, I think they sent your stuff to the wrong person,” he said, “It’s, uh, it’s addressed to Chloe Styles.”

“Oh,” Harry shrugged, not even turning around as he kept getting fruit out of his fridge. “Nah, that’s still for me.”

“Oh, alright,” Louis said, running his thumb over the shipping label. Chloe was probably his sister or mum or any other female relative possibly paying for his subscriptions, “At least you don’t have to fight with the post to get all your shit forwarded again.”

“Right, thank God,” Harry laughed, “So, I have strawberries, bananas, kiwis, mangoes, vanilla yogurt – “

“Honestly, make me anything,” Louis shrugged, opening up the magazine.

“Alright, then,” Harry said, and reached both arms into his fridge, “One Styles Special coming up.”

“What the hell is that?”

“Well,” Harry said, reemerging from the fridge with an armful of produce bags, “It’s a blend of every fruit I have in my fridge at any given time. And orange juice and yogurt.”

Louis smiled and gripped the magazine in his hands tight enough to make the paper crinkle.

“I honestly can’t think of anything better.”

*******

By the second to last week of October, Louis had accepted that he had it bad for Harry. Bad enough that he knew he couldn’t brush away this stupid crush.

Harry had taken to visiting him at the end of his Friday night shifts, and even sometimes on Saturday nights when Abigail was hanging around. Louis made him food when Harry asked for it, and also grabbed a table with the other boy and chatted with him when Harry wanted him to do that. Which, honestly, was nearly every time he visited, even when he didn’t ask for something to eat.

And to make matters achingly worse, Harry had also started to come down to study with Louis during the day. Despite him having an apartment right upstairs with a bed and a couch that were probably far more comfortable than a sticky booth or hard plastic chair, nearly every day he would bound into the shop or down the back stairs and immediately go to set up his laptop and law and business textbooks at the same table where Louis was studying.

Honestly, it was a miracle Louis hadn’t failed every single one of his assignments since Harry had started doing this, because it seemed like every time Harry sat across from him, Louis found a new detail about Harry to fixate on.

Today it was his hair, which Louis had been staring at for a good three minutes. He couldn’t help it. It reminded him of a swirl of cotton candy, soft and wavy and tempting. After another minute, Harry picked up his pre-bottled smoothie and took a sip, and just like that Louis’s focus moved to his lips, which were puffy and bright pink and only a little chapped.

Louis didn’t have the energy to reprimand himself anymore.

Because the thing was, he had a plan.

Another twenty minutes crawled past, and Louis alternated between forcing himself to read, stealing glimpses of Harry’s hair and his mouth and his goddamn fingernails and anything else he could stare at, and thinking about the question that had been on the tip of his tongue for far too long.

Eventually, Harry picked up his phone, and immediately pushed his chair away from the table.

“I should go to class,” he said, going to clean up his papers, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” Louis said. Harry looked up, flashing Louis his usual big smile, and then he was shoving all of his books and papers into his bag, zipping it up, and standing up.

It wasn’t until he was nearly to the door that Louis forced himself to stand up from the table as he called after him.

“Harry?”

The other boy turned, offering him another smile.

“What’s up?”

“Would you, uh, like to do something sometime?”

“We just spent all afternoon doing something.”

“No, like, um,” Louis scratched the back of his head, “Like, something not here. Like a date something.”

There was one long beat of silence in which Harry just looked at him, and Louis honestly craved death more than sitting through that single second.

“Oh,” Harry finally said. His eyes widened a bit, and then he broke back into a wide smile, “Yeah. I’d really like that.”

“Oh. Okay, great,” Louis said, trying to suppress how hard his heart was beating, “Can you go tomorrow?”

“Sure, that sounds fine,” Harry agreed, “Should I come get you?”

“No, I can just come here and get you. You’re closer to the all the good spots in town anyways.”

“Okay. Um, seven o’clock, maybe?”

“Seven is perfect,” Louis nodded. He was going to die. His heart was beating too hard to belong to someone who was going to live to seven o’clock tomorrow night.

“Okay, then, I guess…well, I already knew I’d see you tomorrow, but I’ll…yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you.”

“Yeah,” Harry repeated, and then glanced down at his phone again, “Fuck, I really – “

“Go to class,” Louis immediately said, “See you tomorrow, remember?”

“Right, of course,” Harry smiled, “Tomorrow.”

He left, then, closing the hard behind him, and Louis just stood there, staring out into the rest of the empty shop. When he felt like Harry had walked far away from the shop, he allowed himself to let out a little shout of joy, before quickly clapping a hand over his mouth and just jumping out and down before he was calm enough to sit back down and keep working.

******

Louis decided not to go into The Hangar at all the next day because he wanted to save all the “how was your day” chat he was bound to have with Harry until their actual date. He texted the other boy as much, and he responded with a string of sad faces followed quickly with a “Still excited to see you, though! :)” and about thirty heart emojis in all colors.

So Louis did his homework in the hallways of his lecture halls and in the crowded library and even a bit of work in his room, even though Zayn and Niall were home loudly _entertaining themselves_ while Liam was in class. Then, half an hour before he had to go pick up Harry, Louis put on his cleanest fitted white t-shirt, a denim jacket and a pair of bright blue jeans, grabbed his wallet and phone, and sent a text to Harry that he was on his way.

He arrived at The Hangar about twenty minutes later, and even though he was early, he went ahead and sent Harry another text to let him know he had arrived. He expected Harry to reply asking why the hell he was so early, or to ask him to wait another ten minutes while he finished getting ready, but instead he received a short “Yay! Be right down” in return.

In another minute, he could see Harry had come into The Hangar’s dining area, and then he was emerging from the shop, flashing Louis a wide smile as he did. He was wearing a striped shirt under a thick military-green jacket, a pair of black jeans, and some rather wrecked looking brown boots. When he got closer Louis could also see he had a fresh coat of baby blue polish on his nails, and he was wearing gold shadow on his eyelids.

_God._

Louis was flatlining. Louis was seeing the fucking light.

He blinked, and suddenly Harry was just a foot away from him, with his cotton candy soft hair and his gold eye shadow and his pretty, pretty smile.

“Hi,” Harry said, and Louis gulped thickly, blinking once and hoping it would take care of the pure panic in his eyes.

“Hi yourself,” Louis returned, “You – you look nice.”

“Thanks, you do too,” Harry smiled, and then bounced a bit on his toes, “I thought maybe we could go to Pack Mule? It’s their local band night tonight.”

“Uh,” Louis said, “Sure, that sounds fun.”

“Great!” Harry smiled, “Should we just go? It doesn’t start for another half hour but we can get good seats and chat if we go now.”

“Sure,” Louis agreed. Really, he would have said yes to anything Harry wanted to do, but a concert night sounded fun.

They set off down the street, side by side, as Harry asked Louis about his day. Louis answered the best he could, but the whole time he was distracted by Harry’s hand freely swinging by his side. He considered reaching out to hold Harry’s hand, but…not yet. Later, maybe.

When they walked into Pack Mule Coffee House, Louis saw it was still busy, even at seven on a Wednesday evening. Two baristas were behind the worn wooden counter, and a small cluster of patrons were gathered around the counter. When they eventually got to the front, Louis immediately got out his wallet, shushing Harry when he protested, and ordered two hot chocolates. Once the drinks were prepared, they each picked up a mug and went into the main back room. In the back room, most of the tables were now clustered near the edge of the small stage that was situated at the back of the room, and several people were weaving through the tables to set up microphones and sound equipment.

As soon as they managed to find an empty table and sit down, Harry grinned at Louis and clapped his hands together.

“Okay,” he said, “I want you to tell me something about yourself.”

“What should I tell you?” Louis laughed, “I tell you about my life all the time.”

“About your classes and stuff, yeah,” Harry said, “But I still don’t know where you’re from, and I feel like I should.”

“Oh, well, I’m from pretty close by. Doncaster,” Louis shrugged, picking up his cup, “I live there with my mum and my four sisters and my step-dad. Big family, tiny house. Which is fine because there’s nothing much to do in my hometown, anyways.”

“I live pretty close to there, I think,” Harry smiled, “Cheshire. Holmes Chapel, actually.”

“Is that the name of your town or the abandoned church you lived in?”

“That’s hilarious,” Harry said, in the most serious voice Louis had ever heard come out of him. But soon he was grinning again, shaking his head, “Okay, come on, tell me another thing about you.”

Louis tilted his head, trying to come up with something else.

“Well, uh, I have three roommates,” he said, “And they’re all dating.”

Harry blinked, frowning a little, “I’m sorry?”

“I – okay, listen,” Louis sighed, “So, first year, I was rooming in the dorms with this guy, Zayn, and he was nice and all so we decided to get a flat together the next year. And he had a boyfriend, Niall, and he was always over at our room anyways and I liked him so I was fine when he moved into the flat with us. And then they met Liam and well, they both liked Liam,” he shrugged, picking up his mug, “So now they’re all dating.”

“Oh, well,” Harry shrugged, “Can’t really judge them, if it makes them happy.”

“Oh, I don’t judge them,” Louis said, “I’m only pissed when Niall think it’s okay to eat my groceries and they all steal my Hulu Plus password and have sex at arse o’clock – “ he waved off his next words with a hand, “You’re lucky you live alone, honestly.”

“I guess,” Harry shrugged, “It’s a little lonely, though.”

“I can understand that,” Louis said. He went ahead and picked up his mug again, unsure of what to say next, “Can you, uh…can you tell me about you now?”

“Sure,” Harry smiled, “If you ask me something first.”

“Um, what made you change schools?”

Harry smiled tightly and shrugged, picking up his mug, “Next question.”

“Oh. Um,” Louis pressed his lips together, thinking through what he would ask instead. He was a bit curious about why exactly Harry had left his old school, but it was clearly a touchy topic. Whatever. He didn’t need to know that badly, “What’s your…favorite album?”

“Ooh,” Harry smiled, leaning back and clapping his hands together. He held up one hand, touching one of his fingers for each album he named, and then switching to the other hand when he went past five, “Um, okay…well you know I like The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, but then there’s Doo-Wops and Hulligans, Bruno Mars, Pet Sounds, The Beach Boys, Fame and Fortune, Elvis Presley, Hozier’s album, the self-entitled one. Oh! And Norah Jones’ self-titled album. And then Come On Over, Shania Twain, Child of the Moon, The Rolling Stones, Heart on My Sleeve, Mary Lambert, Rumours, Fleetwood Mac, Dark Side of the Moon, Pink Floyd, that’s just a classic – “

“Harry,” Louis laughed, “I asked your favorite _one_ album!”

“I can’t pick, though. It’s like picking children,” Harry said, pouting his bottom lip out. And damn it, Louis would give him anything if he did that, “Next question, now.”

“Uh, why are you studying business and law when they’re the two most boring things in the world?”

“My dad’s in business, so, there’s that. And I like law because I think the idea of being able to help people,” he shrugged, “Another question, please.”

“Jesus, um, do you have any – “

Before he could finish, though, the lights lowered, and a peel of noise came from the crowd.

“Shh, show’s starting,” Harry said.

“But now I want to ask you more things!” Louis sighed.

“Be patient, then,” Harry said, looking over to wink at Louis.

 _A wink._ Louis was dying. He knew this. He was dying, and going to heaven, somehow.

And then Harry reached over and engulfed Louis’s hand in his as the first band came on stage, and Louis was convinced he had already arrived at the Pearly Gates.

********

The bands were okay. Louis honestly couldn’t remember, because he felt like there were finger marks branded on his hands from where Harry had held his hand the entire time, except for when he would clap for the performers. But he assumed the bands were okay because Harry was smiling the whole time, mouthing along to the words and occasionally leaning over to Louis to say “I love this song” or “They’re good, yeah?” Louis could only nod stiffly because Harry was still holding his hand and he was sweating and oh, God, this was real, this was happening, and Louis was still alive, somehow.

When Harry finally let go of Louis’s hand at the end of the show, Louis shook himself back to reality, at least enough for him to put his jacket back on and gather his empty coffee cup and join the masses heading towards the back door. When they dropped off their dirty cups and went outside, Harry didn’t reach out for Louis’s hand again, instead shoving his bare hands into his jacket pockets. But Louis didn’t mind. It was honestly for the best, because he already felt light headed, like he was dreaming.

They chatted a bit about the night and the songs and which performers were best and Louis was honestly surprised his mouth could move at this point. When they finally arrived at the front of The Hangar, Harry turned to face Louis, and he felt himself come back to Earth a bit. Of course, he was going to work tomorrow, and would probably see Harry then. But he still felt like he was losing him, just for a little bit.

“I had fun tonight,” Harry smiled. He rocking a bit onto the toes of his boots, and Louis swallowed before smiling too.

“Me, too,” he said, “Um, “I’d like to do this again.”

“Yeah?” Harry grinned.

“Yes,” he smiled, “Um, when are you free?”

“Next Wednesday, I guess?” Harry asked, “That seems to work for you so…same time? You can pick where we go this time.”

“Ah, okay,” Louis said, “Sounds great.”

Before he could do anything else, Harry took a few steps forward, blinking his shadowed lids once, and pressed a soft kiss to Louis’s cheek.

“Goodnight, Louis,” he smiled, “I’ll see you again soon.”

“See – see you,” Louis stuttered out.

He kept his hand pressed the cheek Harry had kissed the whole walk home.

*******

Louis was late to pick up Harry the next Wednesday, but it didn’t even matter because when he got to The Hangar, the other boy wasn’t waiting outside. Louis texted him apologizing for being late and telling Harry that he was out front, and Harry got back to him a moment later saying that he’d be out soon, he just needed a few more minutes.

When Harry eventually came out of the shop a few minutes later, he wasn’t wearing any makeup, but his nails were black, and he was wearing a blue and red plaid shirt over a white vest and had his hair wrapped up in a black and white scarf.

“Hi,” he said softly.

“Hi,” Louis returned.

“I, um,” Harry touched the side of his headscarf, “M’sorry I took a little long. My hair was rubbish today.”

“I think it looks nice,” Louis said quickly, “Do you want to head out?”

“Sure. Where are we going?”

“I thought…pizza, maybe? At Godfather’s?”

“And then what?”

“I didn’t, uh, plan much after that. Whatever, I guess. Movie. Ice Cream. Coffee. Nothing,”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing as long as I’m doing nothing with you.”

Harry smiled, “Well let’s go do nothing, then.”

“Not nothing,” Louis corrected, “Um. A movie. Maybe?”

“Sure, a movie,” Harry agreed with a little nod.

Louis nodded back, and then laughed.

“Let’s go, come on.”

*******

After their pizza, they saw some independent movie that was playing at the local theater, something about a boy in New York who wanted to be a vampire so badly that he started killing people and drinking their blood. Which they showed. In detail.

Louis probably couldn’t have picked a worse date movie. At one point, he leaned over, until his mouth was by Harry’s ear.

“M’sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be,” Harry laughed, “We picked this one together, remember?”

“Yeah, but…” Louis cut his eyes to the screen and shuddered when he saw that the screen was still filled with blood, “It’s so…ugh.”

“It’s fine,” Harry laughed, shaking his head. He was still looking at the screen, so clearly he wasn’t entirely repulsed, but if he was lying, Louis figured he might as well let him.

Louis forced himself to back to the screen – which was now clear of blood, but still boring as shit – and slowly, he reached over and nudged Harry’s hand. Wordlessly, Harry opened his hand and let Louis lace their fingers together.

And, okay. Maybe Louis could survive a blood-filled indie movie like this.

*******

“The ending was even worse than the rest of the movie,” Louis huffed as the walked into the lobby of the theater.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Harry said, even though he was laughing.

“It made no sense! The entire time, he’s terrified of death, and then he dies, which would be a nice ironic twist, but he sets up the murder up himself! And then they reveal that with an omnipresent narrator that wasn’t there the rest of the movie – “

“Omnipresent narrator?” Harry laughed, his eyebrows lifting, “I see you’ve learned some things from your playwriting class.”

“Oh, sod off. I’m just pissed I paid ten pounds for that,” Louis huffed, shaking his head, “I’m sorry, though. This was a shitty second date.”

“Well, if that’s what you consider a shitty date, then I consider myself lucky, because I think that was quite fun.”

“Yeah?” Louis asked. They had arrived at the front door, and Harry wordlessly opened the door for Louis, “You had fun?”

“I did,” Harry nodded, following after Louis into the outside and closing the theater door behind him.

“Oh, uh,” Louis said, bouncing on his toes, “Does this mean we can have date number three soon?”

Harry’s eyes softened a bit, and he smiled tightly.

“I’d like that.”

“Okay cool,” Louis said, “Next Wed – “

“Stop,” Harry interrupted, and he shook his head, “I want to tell you something before you set this up.”

“Oh,” Louis said, “Alright, what is it?”

But Harry just shook his head again, reaching out his hand for Louis’s. As Louis took his hand, he looked up at Harry’s face, and even though his mouth was still smiling and his eyes were still soft, his shoulders were tight and something was…off.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, but Harry didn’t answer.

“Don’t worry,” he said instead, “Come on, I want to buy you ice cream. Everything is easier to talk about with ice cream.”

*******

Harry bought them both ice cream, and then they went outside, even though it was now early November and freezing cold. The whole time, Harry held Louis’s hand, but Louis could tell the other man was a bit nervous, just by the way he gripped tightly onto Louis’s hand and took nervous little licks of his vanilla cone, looking straight forward the whole time.

Eventually, they made it to the campus park, and Harry led Louis over to the marble base of a tall war memorial statue, although Louis, for the life of him, couldn’t remember what war the statue was supposed to honor. Harry eased himself down onto the marble, and once Louis was seated next to him, he let go of Louis’s hand, instead wrapping an arm around his folded knees as he continued to lick at his cone.

“So, ah,” Harry eventually said, finally looking over at Louis, “What I want to tell you…it’s about the name you saw on those magazines in my place. And why I transferred, I guess.”

Louis nodded, trying to ignore both the fact that his own ice cream was melting all over his hand and also the rather pained look that had overtaken Harry’s face.

“Okay,” he said, and Harry exhaled. He got up, then, and walked the short distance to the nearest bin to throw away his melted cone. When he returned to sit next to Louis, he buried his face in his hands, sighing thickly.

“So, ah, the thing is,” Harry shook his head, again, and then lifted his face out of his hands so he could look at Louis, “I’m a guy, Louis.”

“Yes, I know that,” Louis said, and Harry just laughed weakly.

“Okay, so you know. But – not everyone wants to acknowledge that I am.”

He was quiet for a little while longer, and he began twisting one of the thick rings on his hand. Louis really just wanted to reach out and stop his nervous fingers from moving, maybe hold his hand while he was at it, but he held himself back.

“I’m trans, Louis,” Harry finally said, and then paused again, staring straight forward and letting the words hang in the air.

“Okay,” Louis said eventually, and Harry’s eyes flicked back to him, his gaze wide.

“Does that change anything for you?”

“No, Harry. God, of course not.”

“Oh. Okay,” Harry said. He scuffed the toe of his boot onto the ground and then looked up at Louis again, “But I’m, um,” he glanced around and then leaned forward, “But I’m, like, I’m pre-op, Louis. Do you know what that means?”

“Yes, Harry. And Jesus, that _especially_ doesn’t matter,” Louis shook his head. But Harry still looked so small, and so unsure, so Louis reached out a hand and gripped onto Harry’s fingers tightly, “Harry, hey.”

Harry looked up, still so startled and unsure, and Louis felt his stomach twist.

 _What did this stupid fucking world do to you?_ He wanted to ask, and yet didn’t want to know the answer.

“I like you,” Louis said gently, “Like, I really, really like you. And I’m glad you told me this but it’s not going to change the fact that I like you.”

“Really?” Harry asked.

“For fuck’s sake, Harry, I thought you were going to tell me you had cancer or something,” Louis huffed, “I mean, listen, I still would have liked you then, too, I’m just glad you’re not John Green-ing my ass on our second date.”

Harry laughed, then, a real, actual, squawk-like laugh, and Louis felt his entire body go warm watching Harry’s body fold up and his face crinkle as he laughed.

When he eventually righted himself, his eyes were still watering from his laugh, and he just slowly shook his head as he gazed at Louis.

“Can I tell you more?” he asked, “About…me, I mean. About this.”  

“Only if you want to.”

“I want to,” Harry nodded.

He looked forward again, staring down at his boots as Louis held his hand. He seemed a little less wound up now, but his expression was still tight as he sighed and then began speaking again.

“So um, coming out is a bit boring. I was a tomboy, or whatever, and it didn’t feel right, and I came when I was seventeen and my family was lovely and let me go on hormones right away and everything was, well, it was actually pretty great at first. But my old university – it wasn’t the right place, for a lot of reasons. It had a good law program but not a good business one, and the campus was too urban, and I didn’t want that, at least not for undergrad. But, um,” he shook his head, “The administration was very conservative, which was something I should have looked into before. But. Um. They put me in a women’s dorm, even though I applied as a male.”

“Harry,”

“Just listen. I put in a bunch of requests to get transferred into a different dorm, and my mum and my stepdad called the administration about it, but there was nothing we could do, apparently. I had biological female on my doctor’s forms, and even though those same forms said I was physically transitioning, the biological thing was all that was all they paid attention to,”

“And of course I’m in this building hall full of girls, and only a women’s bathroom, and it’s uncomfortable everyone, right, because I’m on T, I had top surgery at the end of my first semester, I don’t look like a girl because I’m fucking not, and I’m still there. My roommate was a sweetheart about the whole thing, bless her, but some of the girls were nasty about me being there and I just – “ Harry shook his head, exhaling hard again, “I had to leave. I lived in a gender neutral dorm here for a while but I just needed my own place, you know? So. I guess – I guess that’s me.”

He kept breathing for a long time after he finished, and Louis just squeezed his hand, watched as the frosty air expelled itself from Harry’s lips.

“Harry,” Louis said gently, squeezing his hand, “I am so, so sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Harry said immediately, and then, softer, “Not your fault.”

“But, um,” Louis said, “You thought I wouldn’t want to go out with you anymore if I knew? Because people have been so fucking shitty to you?”

“Well,” Harry shrugged, “I, like, didn’t want to hide it for too long, you know, if you found out somehow I didn’t want you to feel like I’d tricked you or something – “

“Tricked me?” Louis asked, raising his eyebrows, “By doing what?”

“Like, by making you think I’m a guy – “

“You _are_ a guy, though.”

“Yeah, I’m not saying I’m not, just that some people might think that I’m not the right _kind_ of guy – “

“Fuck those people, honestly,” Louis shook his head, “Hey, you have…one sec.”

He rubbed at the edge of Harry’s lip, where there was a stain of ice cream on his skin, and the other boy laughed weakly, batting away his hand and instead licking his own thumb and trying to rub it away on his own. After he was done, his face stilled a bit, and he looked back down at his feet.

“But, also, um” he shrugged, “I was a little nervous because if we went out again, it’d be date three. And well, date three is _date three_.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Like, sex, Louis,” Harry swallowed, “People usually think of sex after date three?”

“That’s a real thing? I thought that was a rom com thing.”

“Be serious with me,” Harry said, “Like, even if it wasn’t _then_ , it might happen eventually. And if that was something you wanted at some point – “ he paused, exhaled, and started again, “It’s different. _I’m_ different. And you’re…you’re gay.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Louis said, “I like guys, you’re a guy.”

“Don’t have the parts you usually like, though.”

“I already told you I don’t give a shit about that,” Louis said, “It’s you. It’s part of you.”

Harry was quiet, and Louis sighed again, edging closer to Harry.

“Harry. Love. You’re getting ahead of yourself,” he said, dragging his thumb over Harry’s cheek, “Talking about all this and you haven’t even kissed me yet.”

“Oh – I,” Harry said, his eyes immediately going wide, “Oh, um, did – can – do you want me to do that?”

“Why would I be talking about it if I didn’t?” Louis asked. He was still touching Harry’s cheek, and slowly, Harry’s eyes became a little less wide.

“So…we’re okay?”

“We’re more than okay,” Louis nodded, “As has been established.”

“And can I actually kiss you? Like, on the lips, proper?”

“That has also been established.”

Harry grinned again, and then leaned forward, cupping Louis’s face in both of his ice-cream sticky hands, kissing Louis hard enough that he gasped against Harry’s mouth and then quickly collapsed into the touch.

It was freezing cold outside, and there was ice cream still stuck between Louis’s fingers, and he was sitting on cold, hard marble, and yet the only thing he could focus on was the fact that Harry was kissing him, and Louis was somehow kissing him back, and Harry had somehow overtaken even more of Louis’s heart.

*******

Louis picked Harry up for their third date a week later. They went to the student rec center’s game night, watched people sing karaoke for half an hour, and then left in boredom. Instead they went back to Harry’s apartment, and Harry put his entire music collection on shuffle and got out a bottle of red wine and they danced in the middle of the living area. Louis bruised his shins pretty badly from where he kept crashing into the coffee table or into Harry’s bedframe but he didn’t care.

At the end, Harry leaned precariously far out from his doorway as he kissed Louis goodnight, and then it was over. No sex. Just Louis wandering home, a little buzzed, very happy, looking forward to the next night when he would be working and Harry would wander down for a sandwich or a late night chat or both.

They went on more dates, until Louis started to lose track of how many they had been on. On their busy weeks, Harry counted his late weekend visits as a date, and Louis let him.

Harry told Louis more about himself eventually, bit by bit.

He had a sister, which Louis already knew, but Harry told him about their sibling movie nights and that his sister had a black belt in three different martial arts and that she had won fifteen different creative writing competitions in college only to get a degree in math in university. Harry told him that he had been scared of the ocean until he was ten years old, and he could write about twenty words perfectly with his left hand, and he could make brownies of a boxed mix that tasted gourmet.

Harry told him other things, too.

How Harry didn’t bother coming out as trans until after he was finished with college and on his way to uni – he wasn’t close with anyone from college, anyways, so he figured let them think what they would think about him and his short haircuts and his shapeless clothes. He had deleted all his social media after college, too, and started fresh, which is why his online presence was so barren. He didn’t have many friends from his old uni aside from his old roommate who he texted every single day, and he was fine with that. He wore makeup and nail polish because he liked it and putting it on calmed him down. He was still a bit intimidated by the men’s locker room in the university gym even though he hadn’t had any problems in there. He still had his birthname on his driver’s license and all his credit cards and he was hoping to get it legally changed by the next year.

Louis tried to tell him more about himself in return, just so Harry never felt uncomfortable, but honestly, all Louis wanted to do was listen to Harry, and the way his voice shaped words, and the way his eyes lit up or his eyebrows furrowed or his lips pouted when he told a certain story. Louis wanted to bathe in Harry’s voice sometimes, and he couldn’t even be bothered to stop himself from having those kinds of thoughts, because he and Harry were _dating_. Or, well, going on dates. Talking. Hanging out. Definitely, definitely not fucking, but that didn’t matter. Even though they hadn’t defined what they were doing in words, it was _something_ , and that was enough for Louis.

*******

It was two weeks away from finals when Zayn showed up to the flat with a literal children’s wagon filled with alcohol.

Louis was studying in the living room at the time and witnessed it first hand. Zayn came in wearing a hot pink rain poncho that was soaking wet, since there was a full thunderstorm going on outside, and he was wheeling a squeaky wagon behind him. It was covered with another brightly colored raincoat, and when he pulled the cover off of it, Louis saw the wagon was full of bottles of fruity vodka and packages of beer and a couple bottles of wine.

“Zayn, what the fuck,” Louis said. He had put his book down for a few seconds and watched as Zayn slowly wheeled the wet, squeaky wagon into the kitchen.

“We’re having a party on Saturday,” Zayn offered, “I was on spirits duty this time.”

Of course, Niall choose that exact moment to emerge from the main hallway, and when he saw Zayn unloading the wagon, he hooted and practically skipped to the kitchen, tossing his arms around Zayn when he got there.

“Hell yeah! This’ll be perfect,” he shouted, “The fucking banger of the century, baby!”

“We all know, baby,” Zayn replied, “I was just telling Louis.”

“Shit, Louis knows?”

“Yes, Louis knows. And wait, when did you get a wagon?” Louis asked, “And how did you get that up the stairs? We don’t have an elevator in this building.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Zayn sighed, “It just matters I did it.”

“Hell yeah, because you’re the best. And you should come, Lou,” Niall said, “You never stick around for our parties.”

“I probably work that night,” he said. Actually, that was a lie. Abigail had offered to fill in his shifts for the weekend because she needed to save up some extra money to buy food and petrol for her long drive home for winter break, so he was free to do whatever he wanted. But he had already planned to spend that night with Harry, and he had heard enough about his flatmates’ parties from the rest of the semester to know he probably wouldn’t be interested.

“Ah, well, if it works out, you should stick around,” Niall said, “And you can bring someone, if you like. We’re very open invitation.”

Louis was tempted to just give Niall a non-committal answer and go back to his studying, the way he usually coped with his flatmates, when he remembered that had promised Harry he would take him to a party before the semester was over. And well, Harry still hadn’t bothered to go to one on his own, and now the opportunity for Louis to take him to something had arisen.

“Actually, let me see if I can come,” Louis said.

“Fuck yeah,” Niall nodded, “Finally, all four members of flat 311 are together at last for the – “

“Banger of the century,” Zayn sighed as he swiped the canned margarita out of Niall’s hand, “And I didn’t drag a wagon up three flights of stairs for you to waste our booze before Saturday, for fuck’s sake.”

*******

Louis was surprised they hadn’t been evicted yet.

He had never been to a party at his own flat, but apparently they involved anyone that his flatmates vaguely knew, along with anybody else those people vaguely knew, music cranked to a level that should not have been discernable to human ears, and Liam using his engineering student skills to fill a chocolate fountain with hard lemonade.

Louis surprisingly knew quite a few people; apparently Niall or Liam or Zayn had crossed paths with some theater students at some point, and he had been spending most of the party surrounded by people he knew from class while also checking his phone to make sure Harry was on his way and he had the right address.

When Harry sent him a quick “I’m here :)” text, Louis immediately shot up from the couch, weakly excusing himself from the circle of acting majors he had left behind, and jogged to the front door. On the other side of the door, Harry had shown up in all black, beside from the navy blue on his nails and eyelids, and was carrying a bright blue bottle in one hand.

“Hi,” Louis greeted, and then lifted himself onto his tip toes, puckering his lips. Harry laughed, and then tucked a knuckle under his chin and pecked Louis on the lips. When he pulled away, he held up the bottle he was clutching in one hand.

“Um, I brought shitty vodka.”

“Perfect,” Louis said, reaching out to grab the bottle, “Let’s go put it in the kitchen. And then I can introduce you to a few people.”

He grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him into the kitchen, the other boy laughing behind him. In the middle of the kitchen, Niall was entertaining a group of his music major friends, waving his hands enough that he was probably going to spill his drink everywhere eventually.

“And then I said, ‘Liam, it’s not possible to fit four whole bananas in the Nutri Bullet,’ but we did! You just have to cut them up, but it’s brilliant, honestly – “ he paused, turning to Louis with glassy eyes, “Louis! You’re still here.”

“Yeah, I told you I was staying tonight,” Louis managed. He held up his and Harry’s loosely locked hands, and then held up the vodka, “Um, I also brought a…person. Harry. And Harry brought booze.”

“Oh, shit, you’re fucking someone? Finally. Fucking sick. And I like this Harry,” Niall shouted, just loud to be heard over the music, “Harry brought us alcohol! More alcohol!”

“Yeah, but, um, I think you might need to slow down on that anyways, mate,” Louis offered weakly as Harry handed over his offering to Niall.

“Don’t tell me what to do, you fucking twink,” Niall scoffed, and then sighed, pointing to Harry, “I like him, he’s pretty.”

“Um, thanks?” Harry laughed, and then squeezed Louis’s hand a bit tighter, “I’m a bit of monogamist, though.”

“Boring,” Niall huffed, picking his cup back up, “Okay, you two have fun. Nice for you to join us for once, Lou.”

Louis weakly said goodbye and then tugged Harry out of the kitchen and into the crowded living room.

“I’m sorry about him,” Louis offered weakly, but Harry just laughed.

“I liked him,” he said with a small shrug, “Will I get to meet your other flatmates tonight?”

“Probably, yes,” Louis sighed, “For now, though, we can talk to my theater friends. They’re…a little less intense. I mean, they’re theatre people, so, that’s relative, but…still.”

“Well, I’d like to meet them, too,” Harry smiled, and Louis nodded and then tugged him over to the couch where most of his acquaintances were still huddled around, chatting. Louis introduced Harry to everyone and then they sat down on the last remaining space on the couch, Harry nearly in Louis’s lap, but that didn’t seem to phase Harry or really anyone in the group.

Soon, there was a knock on the door, which wasn’t another guest but instead a neighbor coming to tell them to turn down the music. Niall got in some impressive screaming and insults before Liam swooped in, unbuttoned shirt and flushed cheeks and all and calmed Niall down, apologized, and then personally turned the music down to half of its previous volume. It was still loud enough for Louis to worry about their cheap walls cracking, but it was quiet enough to carry a conversation without shouting.

Harry was charming everyone in Louis’s circle effortlessly, and Louis couldn’t help but look over at him and stare at him while he told the most benign story and still managed to captivate everyone in the room. Louis was too sober for this. He probably should have gotten him and Harry drinks by now from the literal alcoholic cornucopia in the kitchen.

He was just going to lean in and ask Harry if he wanted anything to drink when Harry’s head turned just a bit towards the middle of the room, and he paused mid-sentence, his eyes going wide.

“Jade!” he shouted.

Louis just watched as Harry pulled himself off the couch and practically tripped across the room to get to a petite girl across the room, who shrieked when she saw Harry. In a few moments, they were hugging, Harry nearly lifting her off the ground, and then once her feet were safely on the ground, she was immediately bouncing, grabbing Harry’s hands.

“What are you doing here?” Louis heard Harry ask.

“I travelled in for the weekend!” the girl shouted shouted, “My girlfriend goes here! Of course, she’s fucking ditched me somewhere but – shit, it’s so good to see you again!”

“God, you too,” Harry shook his head. He glanced back to the couch and when he locked eyes with Louis, he let go of one of the girl’s hands to wave him over.

“Louis, Louis,” he called, “Come over here.”

Louis excused himself from the group and wandered over. When he finally made his way to Harry, the other boy immediately wrapped both arms tightly around his shoulders.

“Louis, this is my old roommate, Jade,” Harry said, “Jade, this is my boyfriend, Louis.”

Louis’s eyes went wide, but his brain only had to a second to process that Harry had said ‘My boyfriend, Louis,’ before Jade was shrieking, and then immediately clapping her hands over her mouth.

“Shit! Oh my god, I’m sorry, that was weird, but – oh my God, _Harry_!” she said, “Let go of him, I want to give him a hug.”

Harry just laughed, and almost as soon as his arms left Louis’s body, Jade was swooping in, bracing her arms tightly around him. She was little, but he had to admit she had a pretty good grip.

“Hi, darling,” she whispered in his ear, “It’s so good to meet you.”

“Jade is a big hugger,” Harry offered behind them, and Jade just scoffed.

“Piss off, will you,” she sighed. She eventually let go of Louis and then looked between the two of them, “Okay, come on, I want to hear everything about you two.”

“Right now?” Harry laughed, and Jade just gave him a shocked look.

“Yes, right now, I’m not waiting another six months to learn how you’re doing,” she said, “Come on, the hallway should be more quiet.”

So, they ended up in the flat’s main hallway, alone aside from the occasional person who would weave between them to find the loo. Louis tried his best to cobble together the story of how Harry had moved into The Hangar, and how nervous he was around him, and how he waited stupidly long to ask him out. Harry only stuck in his own pieces a few times – “I don’t know why he took so long, I always thought I was so obvious. I mean, I was sneaking down at three in the morning to talk to him, what more did he need?” and “He didn’t like the film, but honestly, I don’t remember what it was about. I was too nervous because I knew I wanted to tell him about everything after we were done, it was all I was thinking about.”

Eventually, Louis got through everything, and by the time it was over, Jade had both her hands clasped together and she was bouncing up and down, her eyes wide.

“Oh my God, I love it,” she gasped, “You’re so cute, guys, you really are.”

“We’re alright,” Harry laughed, and squeezed Louis’s hand. He leaned over to peek his cheek, and moved his mouth enough to whisper in Louis’s ear.

“I was going to get a drink,” he said, “Want something?”

“Yeah. Something so fruity I can’t taste the alcohol.”

“Got it,” Harry smiled, and then kissed Louis’s cheek again.

“Thanks, boyfriend,” Louis murmured. When Harry pulled away, he gave Louis a soft smile, and then he was going back down the hallway, into the main fray of the party.

Both Jade and Louis watched him go, and when he had disappeared entirely, Jade turned back to Louis, a big but careful smile on her face.

“You two really are great together,” she said, “I just...thank you for taking care of him. I know Harry can handle his own shit but still…thank you for being there for him.”

“No, _thank you_ ,” Louis said immediately, “He told about some of the shit at your old school…that’s shit, honestly. I’m so glad he had you.”

“We had each other, if anything,” Jade shrugged, “A trans man and an Arabic lesbian on a conservative campus? We were a fucking side show. I mean, Harry probably had it worse, but he would still be there for me when I got home from class crying because some asshole had called me a ‘terrorist dyke’ in the middle of class and my professor had egged him on. I mean, fuck, there was a reason I switched schools this year, too.”

She shook her head and smiled, her sunny expression returning.

“But, God, Harry…you only meet a few people like Harry in your life. He’s something else.”

“Yeah,” Louis nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

“I’m not going to give you a ‘don’t break his heart’ speech. I can already tell you won’t,” Jade smiled, “I mean, you _won’t_ , right?”

“Never,” Louis said quickly, and that made Jade smile even more.

“Good,” she said, and then she was closing the space between them, squeezing Louis hard again.

“Harry wasn’t kidding when he said you were a hugger,” Louis laughed.

“Oh, suck it up. Lesbian hugs are the best hugs,” Jade said.

She pulled away just in time for Harry to round the corner holding two brightly colored cans, and he smiled at both of them before turning to Jade.

“Hey, Jade?” he said, “I think I found something of yours.”

“What?” she asked, but then another girl was jogging down the hallway straight towards them, moving surprisingly fast on her tall heels.

“Hey, baby,” the other girl smiled once she reached them and then she leaned down to peck Jade of the lips, “I was looking for you, you ran away from me.”

“Think you ran away, to be accurate. But hi, Jes,” Jade smiled, and then turned to Harry and Louis, “Jesy, this is Harry, my old roommate, and his boyfriend, Louis. Harry, Louis, this is Jesy, my very drunk girlfriend.”

“I am not drunk,” Jesy sighed, “Only a tiny little bit.”

“Okay, baby,” Jade laughed, “Harry and Louis were just telling me about how they met.”

“Damn it, and I missed it?” Jesy shouted. She turned to the two of them and pointed between them, “Okay, come on, I want to hear everything. Love me a good, gay love story.”

“Baby, they just told the whole story,” Jade said.

“It’s okay,” Louis butted in, “Always like to talk about this one.”

He wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist when he said it and Jesy honest to God screamed, clapping and jumping up and down on her dangerously tall heels.

“Start from the beginning!” she insisted.

So Louis accepted his canned strawberry margarita from Harry, took a sip, and leaned back into his newly-minted boyfriend.

“So I show up to the place I work one day, like two and a half weeks into the semester, and there’s a random kid there, even though the place is closed. Anyways, he keeps insisting there’s an apartment upstairs – “  

*******

“I’m going to miss you,” Louis said.

It was Sunday night, and Louis had his first final the next afternoon, but he couldn’t even focus on that. He was lying on Harry’s bed, the other boy across from him, their textbooks and papers long abandoned on the floor. Louis kind of knew their “finals week cram session” would end this way, but, well, maybe that was what he wanted after all.

“Break’s only a few weeks,” Harry murmured, pushing aside Louis’s fringe, “And then we have another semester ahead of us.”

“I know,” Louis huffed, “Doesn’t I mean I’m not going to miss you in the meantime,”

“Right, of course,” Harry said. The corner of his smile faltered, and then eventually it fell entirely, “I’m going to miss you so much, too.”

Harry moved a little closer, tucking his hand underneath Louis’s chin, and then leaned forward and kissed him firmly. Louis let his own lips move languidly against Harry’s, just mirroring his movements at first, and then he put more effort into the kiss, really pushing into it and letting his own mouth take more control.

Louis felt a flush of heat go through his chest, and he reached out, grasping for Harry’s shirt. In the rest of the room, he heard the heater click back on – it was old and only worked in intervals – and soon the air felt as warm as the rest of his skin.

He and Harry hadn’t talked about sex since their second date. Which was fine. Totally, completely fine.

But now Louis was on the brink of not getting to see Harry again for three whole weeks, and he was lying on Harry’s bed, in a room that overwhelming smelled like him, with his fingers twisted in Harry’s shirt, and he was quickly getting hard.

Maybe was the time. Maybe.

Louis kissed him harder, and this time Harry relaxed into it, his lips moving easily against Louis’s touch.

“Harry,” Louis murmured, “Harry, I want to touch you.”

“You are,” Harry breathed out.

“No, Harry – “ Louis paused, shaking his head, “Can I take your shirt off?”

Harry’s eyes went a little wide and then slowly, he nodded.

“Sure,” he said, “Um, I have a couple scars, if that bothers you – “

“It doesn’t. It won’t,” Louis said, “Just want to see you.”

Harry nodded again, and then sat up, enough that Louis could get his hands under Harry’s shirt and lift it. Harry easily put his arms up, allowing him to slip off it entirely, and then he laid right back down on the bed as Louis just looked at him.

Harry’s skin was covered with a fading tan, and decorated with a stripe of pale skin over the top of his narrow hips, a sprinkling of hair over his firm stomach, and thick patches of ink on his shoulders, his stomach, his hip. The skin on his arms and skin was pebbled with goose bumps despite the soupy, thick heat of the room, his nipples were hard and dark. And then there were two pink scars running under each of his pecs, clearly faded but still standing out starkly from the soft gold of the rest of his chest.

Louis noticed Harry’s chest was barely moving, and underneath the creaking roar of the heater he couldn’t detect any breath exiting Harry’s lips. Slowly, Louis moved forward, planting his hands to either side of Harry’s hips, and then he touched his lips down to the very center of Harry’s chest, the place between his pecs where there was no scarring. Harry’s long fingers touched his cheek and Louis looked up, meeting Harry’s wide eyes.

They laughed at the same moment, and Louis felt Harry’s body unravel underneath him, going soft and gentle and at ease.

“Do you want me to take my pants off?” Harry asked, and Louis felt his cheeks flush.

“Do you want to?”

“Yeah, I do,” Harry got out. His cheeks were flushed bright pink, and Louis could see now his chest was moving steadily, heaving with firm breath, “I haven’t slept with anyone in a really long time, Louis.”

“I know,” Louis managed.

“I thought this would be scarier,” Harry shook his head, “But…I don’t think I’m scared anymore.”

“Yeah?” Louis asked, and he could’ve sworn that his own chest was no longer moving.

“Yeah,” Harry echoed. He sat up a bit, moving to support himself onto his elbows, and Louis moved himself in turn.

“Can I do something for you first, though?” Harry asked. Louis blinked, and he was sure his heart was going to give out and yes, this was it, he was going to die, but he managed to say, “Yes, yes, please. I – I’m clean, you’re good.”

Harry sat up more fully, then, and then placed a hand on Louis’s waist and eased him onto the bed, until they were in the opposite of their previous position, with Louis was lying down and Harry hovering over him. Harry pushed at the base of Louis’s shirt and he quickly sat up, yanking the shirt off and then lying back down. Harry was pressing closer to him in another second, kissing the curve of Louis’s neck and then down to his stomach.

“You’re so pretty,” Harry breathed out, his lips hovering over the waistband of Louis’s jeans. He undid the button of the jeans, and Louis took one quick, stuttering breath as Harry glanced up at him, his eyes seemingly seeking permission.

“Go on,” Louis managed, and Harry nodded. He ducked his head, peeling down the fabric of Louis’s jeans to his thighs, and then pushed down his briefs.

Louis was already pretty hard, his cock flushed pink and pressed against his stomach. Harry blinked, his eyes going a bit glassy, and he gingerly took the base of Louis’s cock in his hand as he leaned his head forward. His lips puckered and he brushed his mouth against Louis’s length before arriving at the head and completely enveloping it in his mouth. Louis couldn’t help but buck his hips at the feeling of Harry’s warm mouth around his head, especially when Harry began to suck firmly.

Harry glanced up at Louis, his eyes still glassy and now getting dark, and then he flicked his gaze back down. He tilted his head a bit, enough to twist his mouth around Louis’s cock, and Louis gasped, his hips stuttering again as he twisted his fingers tightly into the comforter underneath him.

As Harry pushed himself lower down, pushing more of Louis into his mouth, Louis had to close his eyes, and only focus on the tight heat of Harry’s mouth, the way his tongue was working on him, and even how his fingers were rubbing the very base of Louis’s cock.

“Harry,” he got out, “Harry, Jesus – “

He could barely say anything yes, because his voice was swallowed up with another airy gasp, and he tilted his head back. Harry’s free hand smoothed over Louis’s hip, and it was such a small touch, but Louis hadn’t gotten head for nearly nine months, and this was Harry, and he was so, so sweet and what he was doing felt so, so good.

Harry pulled off a bit, going back to suckle at Louis’s head, and Louis gasped again, this time to exhale the air trapped in his chest, and then he freed one hand from the comforter so he could brush his fingertips against Harry’s cheek.

“Harry,” he got out, “Come on, babe – m’gonna come,”

Harry glanced up again, his eyes two pieces of evergreen glass, and he just kept going. Louis’s eyes widened when he realized what Harry was doing.

“Harry, pull off,” he said weakly, but Harry didn’t move, just kept looking at Louis and sucking.

Soon, Louis felt his body coil, and then he was arching his back, and crying out, and Harry still hadn’t moved, even when he felt himself spilling into the other boy’s mouth. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, his flushed cheeks hollowing as he sucked, and when Louis was done and had collapsed back down onto the head, he swallowed hard and pulled off slowly, Louis’s softening head emerging from his mouth with a wet pop.

“Alright?” Harry asked, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Alright?” Louis echoed. He stretched out a hand, wiggling his fingers until Harry grabbed his hand, “Harry, that was…that was incredible. Flawless. Ten out of ten would do again.”

Harry laughed, and Louis shook his head, trying to get his breathing back to normal. When he felt slightly grounded again, he slowly sat up and looked at the other boy.

“Can I…” he swallowed, “Can I return the favor now?”

Harry blinked, his smile dropping a bit, and eventually he licked at his swollen bottom lip.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Louis said, nodding a bit too hard, “I’m sure. I just…do you want me to?”

“I would love that,” Harry said immediately, and then swallowed again, “God, Louis, all I want is you to do that.”

He inhaled sharply, and shook his head, pulling away a bit.

“If you don’t want to though, I understand, I – “

“Shh,” Louis said, grabbing the sides of Harry’s face, “Shh.”

He pressed his mouth hard against the other boy’s mouth, until he felt Harry go soft underneath him.

“Lay down,” he said gently once he pulled away, and wordlessly, Harry glanced at him and then crawled back down the length of the bed, until he was lying on his back.

“Do you want me to take your pants off?” Louis asked, “Or do you want to?”

“You can,” Harry said, his voice so, so soft that Louis just had to stretch himself out enough to kiss Harry firmly on the lips.

“Alright,” Louis said gently. He crawled back down Harry’s body and and undid the button of his jeans, and then got ahold of the thick elastic band that ran along Harry’s slender hips. He rolled both pieces of fabric down, until they were sliding off Harry’s hips, and then his thighs and his ankles until they were gone, cast aside to the floor next to the bed.

Louis leaned in then, planting himself on his elbows in front of Harry.

“You – “ Louis shook his head, and then allowed himself to laugh, “You gotta talk me through this.”

“Just touch me first,” Harry murmured. “With your mouth. Please.”

“Okay,” Louis managed, and then he leaned in, nosing into the neat bundle coarse curly hair and then into the rich-smelling, slick skin nestled between Harry’s legs. He lapped one straight line against him, and he heard Harry make a small, resigned noise, his thighs moving on either side of Louis’s head.

“You taste sweet,” Louis said, pulling off a bit, “You can spread out more if you’d like.”

Harry spread his legs a bit wider, enough for Louis to really settle between them. He leaned in again and ran his tongue up and down Harry’s folds, prodded his tongue over different spots, suckled on the places that Harry seemed to react to the most.

“Louis,” Harry gasped, “Louis, keep going.”

He did, pushing his tongue a bitter more firmly into Harry’s folds, and then prodding at them gently with the tip of his tongue. He was experimenting, trying to find the places that made Harry’s legs shake the most, got the prettiest noises out of the other boy. It was hard because, well, Harry sounded gorgeous no matter what Louis did.

“Feels so good, Louis,” Harry gasped at one point, “ _You’re_ doing that. You’re making me feel good.”

And then Louis prodded along one spot that made Harry cry out _hard_. His thighs clamped hard around Louis’s head, enough to make Louis startle and pull back a bit.

“Fuck,” Louis gasped out, about the same time Harry said the same thing. Harry laughed first, and then covered his face with his hands.

“M’sorry,” he murmured.

“S’okay,” Louis told him, “More than okay. It that, uh – is that good?”

Harry just nodded hard, his hands still concealing his face.

“Should I get that spot again?”

Harry nodded again, and slowly, Louis ducked his head back, getting back to work. It took a few more swipes of his tongue before he relocated the place where Harry’s clit must be, but when he ran his tongue along one particular spot and Harry seized up again, Louis knew he’d found it.

At one point, he suctioned his lips firmly against Harry’s clit, sucking hard, and flicked his eyes up. Harry had both hands clamped firmly over his mouth, even though Louis could clearly still hear him whimpering. His cheeks were brilliant pink and his entire face was slick with sweat, his curls wilted and plastered haphazardly over his temples and forehead, and God, Louis had never seen anything more gorgeous in his life.

Harry’s closed eyes eventually opened, and when they did he locked his gaze with Louis. Louis’s mouth stilled just a bit as he met Harry’s strong gaze, and slowly Harry pried his hands away from his mouth, enough Louis could see that his mouth was bitten bright red.

“Don’t stop,” Harry murmured, his throat swallowing hard, “Please, Louis, don’t stop.”

Louis swallowed, and considered saying something else, but he just ducked back down, his lips bumping along Harry’s folds before his tongue found his clit again. He kept his eyes up this time, even though Harry wasn’t always looking at him. But he kept looking just to see Harry squirm and tense up and open and close his mouth as he kept gasping and making the sweetest noises Louis had ever heard, and probably ever would.

And then, Harry’s back arched, and Louis could only stare at how _pretty_ Harry looked, with his arms stretched wide and his head thrown back and his hair nothing but limp curls. Louis kept his mouth right up against Harry the whole time, pressing his tongue to him as he felt pure sweetness drip out, licking it up slowly so he could take it in, while Harry’s body twitched and he kept making so many gorgeous noises.

Eventually, Harry’s body went limp, falling back onto the bed enough to make the mattress weakly squeak. He gasped softly, and Louis just sat up and gazed at him, his own chest heaving as he slowly pulled away from Harry. His lips felt wet and tangy, and he probably should wipe them, but he honestly didn’t have the brainpower left to do so.

Harry peeled himself off the bed, brushing his hair back with one hand as he glanced at Louis.

“One second,” Harry murmured as he fully pulled himself off the bed.

“Where are you going?” Louis asked, and his voice didn’t even sound like his own, too weak and far away.

“Loo,” Harry provided, reaching out to stroke Louis’s fringe with shaky fingers, “I’ll be back in a second, I promise.”

Louis groaned softly but let Harry slip into the bathroom. He collapsed onto the bed in the meantime, rubbing his cheek into the rumpled sheets under him. He heard running water through the wall next to him, and then it was gone. There was a click, probably of a light being turned off, and then a soft creaking as the bathroom door opened. Louis closed his eyes as he listened to Harry pad over to stand next to the bed, and then the mattress creaked and Louis could feel another body lying next to him.

“Louis,” Harry murmured, and then there was a finger poking at the end of Louis’s nose. He scrunched up his nose and then opened his eyes, blinking at Harry lying across from him. He now had a thin pink hairband pushing his curls back, and his skin looked damp but a little less pink – he had probably splashed some water on himself in the bathroom.

“Hi,” Louis said, but Harry frowned, even though his eyes were still sparkling.

“Come closer,” Harry said, “Come kiss me.”

“Okay,” Louis smiled, edging closer to him. He set a hand on Harry’s neck, right underneath his jaw, and kissed him.

“I love kissing you,” the other boy sighed against Louis’s mouth, “Wanna kiss you all day.”

“Really? You’d miss class? Fail out of school? Lose your nice little apartment? All to keep kissing me?”

“I’d major in kissing you,” he said, and Louis laughed, shaking his head. He brushed his hand down lower, to touch Harry’s hip, and found a bit of fabric there. He glanced down and saw that Harry had put his briefs back on. When he looked back up, Harry just shrugged.

“Just wanted to put them back on, if that’s okay,” he murmured, “I’m not – I’m not uncomfortable or anything, I just want to be covered sometimes,”

“That’s fine, love,” Louis said, “You can whatever you’d like,”

Harry’s mouth twitched into a smile.

“Then can I kiss you again? Because I’d like to do that,”

“You’re a madman,” Louis huffed, but didn’t protest when Harry leaned in again and brushed their mouths lightly together.

“That was incredible,” Harry breathed out when they pulled away, “You’re the first person to do that for me in…well, in a really, really long time,”

“I wanted to for so long,” Louis admitted, “God, would do anything for you, Harry. Do anything for my boy,”

Harry’s eyes went soft and nearly liquid, and he shook his head slowly, easing himself closer to Louis.

“Is it crazy to say that I think I’m falling in love with you?”

“No,” Louis said immediately, although his voice still didn’t sound like his own, “Because I already did the same thing a long time ago.”

He didn’t even have time to see Harry react before the other boy was pulling him close, kissing him so hard Louis couldn’t even gasp because it felt like all the air in his lungs was suddenly gone.

When Harry pulled away, he set his hands gently on Louis’s hips and pressed his chin to the other boy’s shoulder, until they were locked together.

“I’m so glad I found this place,” he murmured, “I’m so glad I found you.”

Louis was pretty sure he muttered out “Me, too” but he honestly didn’t know. He was too far off, floating with no chance of coming down as he stayed wrapped in Harry’s arms, engulfed in the heat of his skin, wondering how the hell the universe managed to give him this university, this job, this building, this boy.

Maybe he should track down Therese’s dad and thank him for building this apartment.

**Author's Note:**

> As a final note, Harry’s characterization in this story is not meant to represent every trans man in the world. Not all trans men are interested in wearing makeup, or taking hormones, or getting top surgery, and many may not be able to do these things at all! I wrote Harry the way I did to represent one character and one story. And ultimately, there is no right or wrong way to express or experience your gender, and every person is unique. 
> 
> A couple dumb final notes: The Hangar, Pack Mule, and even the war memorial statue in the campus park are all based on real locations in the town where I go to school. The movie Harry and Louis watch on their second date is real; it’s called The Transfiguration and it’s a trip. Also, I’ve never read the play “The Seagull” but my theatre major girlfriend absolutely hates it, so there’s that. 
> 
> Thank you for reading if you’ve gotten this far. I hope you had fun, please leave kudos and comments if you did. 
> 
> Tumblr: emperorstyles


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